


The Year Without My Saltwater Kiss

by SpaceGirl2002



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Btw they are in their last year of high school so no underage stuff, Ending is fucked up, Everyone Thinks Iwa Is Dead Except Oiks, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hanamaki Is A Good Best Friend, I love the whole 'Kiyoko and Oikawa are friends' thing I will defend it till the day I die, I swear I love Oikawa, Iwaizumi might be dead whoops, Just pure fluff that was tainted by the amounts of angst I added, Kiyoko and Oikawa are friends fight me, Kiyoko makes a HUGE appearance I swear, Lmao it was originally just a wave of angst but I'm a sucker for memes and this happened, M/M, Makki and Mattsun are memelords, Memefuckers, Memes, No actual 'suffering' until later chapters, Oikawa Is Attacked By Tumblr(Makki and Mattsun), RIP Iwa, RIP Oikawa's dignity and social life, They Run A Tumblr Blog Where They Make Fun Of Oikawa And Make Him Into A Reaction Meme, Tumblr Memes, Why Do I Picture Makki and Mattsun as Fred And George Weasley, Yachi makes a minor appearance but Kiyoko makes up for it by talking about her, iwaoi - Freeform, memes everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-26 07:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceGirl2002/pseuds/SpaceGirl2002
Summary: "Scared?" He used to smile at me, not much muscle to him but he was getting there. Bare chest clad in swim trunks that reached just below his knee. Maybe I was, frightened by the thought that if I went through with his plan, my life could change."Not even close Iwa-chan!" I all but screeched, taking his outstretched hand into my own. He tugged me towards the water, his smile brightening up the early evening sky.We'd done this many times before, swimming at night when the breeze would chill our scalding skin.I was an idiot, and he was my best friend.No sunset can compare to the last one I saw with him when he made me a promise I couldn't refuse.And that's only the beginning of the end.





	1. How To Destroy Yourself

~•~

 

Who is there to tell me what I want in life? 

I'm certainly not the person in charge of deciding what my future holds for me.

Every night mom and dad act like everything's okay, a play they've rehearsed ever since my sister threw her life away. Mom is the witch who manipulates us into thinking everything is alright and my father is the tyrant king who has ill lived fantasies of my mother and I serving him hand and foot, just incompetent servants.

When I say my mother is the witch, it's not what you think. She's there to use her magical powers to help cope, because ever since my father got it into his head that his "perfect" son was hooking up with the boys on his team, she's been the sole provider of any comfort I've received in the last year.

There's always my best friend, but my Dad has been keen on his promise ever since he caught my hand in the clutch of our next door neighbor. He doesn't live in the sky blue house that seems to match every other boring building on the street anymore. It turned out that my father had been having an affair with the stay at home daughter, just twenty, and with the shame of knowing their daughter was a "home wrecker", they moved. The father transferred to the other side of the country and the mother forced to close down the only good pharmacy that wasn't overrun with drug addicts in the city. And then there was the blond son who was only a year older than me. The boy in the grade above me who played tennis with the rest of his friends. The one who would stare at me from their living room window when I walked into our midnight blue house, the boy who would hold my hand longer than needed to whenever we exchanged handshakes. The same pale face who asked me if I'd ever thought of having my first time in a treehouse and who's clearwater eyes flicked over to the tree in his backyard for even the fraction of a second.

My best friend had had his suspicions on the boy living in the dull blue house. He had thought that I was only being used in a way that was classified as an experiment. I didn't know what he had meant, but every night's worth of binge watching alien conspiracy shows on the Discovery Channel I'd ring him up and ask if he meant the scientific kinds of experiments he fawned over. He'd always cut our calls short with a shout of irritation because "Shittykawa why are you calling me at midnight?!"

I guess that was what defined us as people. Iwaizumi was the brute in our friendship, and in our little circle of friends, ironically he was the one who cared the most. Hanamaki was often seen latched onto Matsukawa's side, as if they were two halves of the same idiot. Iwaizumi and I never had a doubt in mind that there was something between them. I guess they must have thought the same about him and me, childhood best friends who seemed to be polar opposites. We were, in many ways, similar to the other, but my idiotic ways wouldn't let me see that beyond every barrier of friendship we had, there could have been more.

Maybe that's why my dad would shoot him glares when he thought we weren't looking, but ever since what happened to my sister, I'm always wary around him and turning my head around to make sure I won't turn out like her. I'm probably the only thing holding this family together, for better or for worse. 

We're really made up of just four individuals who seem to have too much free time yet not enough creative motivation. We fawn over sports, especially volleyball, and I sometimes have to bite my tongue before speaking about crushes, when I know deep down that no matter which crafted way I phrase it, they'll know I've outed myself out.

Ever since what happened to my older sister I'm much more careful about what I say, and I make sure to monitor my actions. 

Maybe I'm just a coward.

"Scared?" He used to smile at me, not much muscle to him but he was getting there. Bare chest clad in swim trunks that reached just below his knee. Maybe I was, frightened by the thought that if I went through with his plan, my life could change.

"Not even close Iwa-chan!" I all but screeched, taking his outstretched hand into my own. He tugged me towards the water, smile brightening up the early evening sky.

We'd done this many times before, swimming at night when the breeze would chill our scalding skin. 

I was an idiot, and he was my best friend.

No sunset can compare to the last one I saw with him when he made me a promise I couldn't refuse.

And that's only the beginning of the end.


	2. How To Rely On Others

~•~

Waking up screaming his throat raw isn't Oikawa Tooru's ideal way to wake up.

There's knocking at his door before his mother, in all her angelic glory, slams the door open only to find Tooru silently bawling his eyes out.

It's the third night in a row.

She sighs and stalks over to his window, drawing the curtains open to let moonlight filter into the room. She turns around to face Tooru, who in his tear stained state still manages to ask her what's wrong.

"Did you have another nightmare, honey?" His mother soothes, her weight dipping the bed, making the brunette aware of her presence as he commences to rub the tears out of his eyes.

"No," he says, shoulders shaking as his mother wraps an arm around him and brings him close to her motherly warmth.

"Sweetie you don't have to lie, I'm your mom," she whispers as she runs a hand through his hair. Her left hand is holding his own and he notices that she's not wearing her ring. A dead giveaway. He doesn't comment on his observation, satisfying himself with yet another lie. Maybe it had been too uncomfortable for her.

"What time is it?" Tooru manages to croak out, words clawing their way out of his throat and by the name of anything holy he swears it burns like Hell.

"Half past three, you're making this a routine now aren't you?" She laughs softly and upon seeing the distraught look on her son's face she quickly saves herself with, "Sorry, guess that was a terrible joke."

They continue to sit on Tooru's bed, the alien themed duvet providing a very well known comfort to the boy, a gift he had received years back.

"Are you working tomorrow?"

She laughs softly and keeps running her warm hand through his tangled hair. "No, but today I am."

"Today?" Tooru asks, puzzled.

"It's after midnight, honey."

"Oh right."

They continue to bask in silence, his mother humming a lullaby as he himself looks out his bedroom window, overlooking the house where the family who had lived there had ruined their lives.

Tooru's eyes start to droop and soon enough he's leaning all of his weight onto his mother's side.

"Honey you can't just sleep against me."

"Watch me."

"I can't, I don't have my glasses right now."

"Watch me with blurry vision then," he mutters, breathing evening out as he starts to slip into a soundless sleep.

His mother smiles, bittersweet, and pries her son's arms from her abdomen. She can hear small mumbles of protest and whines as Tooru's face twists in pain. She continues to hum, right hand coming down to his cheek to reassure his sleeping self that he's safe.

She slowly walks to the bedroom window, clad in flannel pajamas and pink slippers, and sits at the bay window. The room had belonged to her as a child, and it had been a dream for her firstborn child to sleep in it. Originally, she had, but when the accident happened, her second born had been too devastated and had thrown tantrums to ensure he'd move into the room next.

How simple things used to be.

Tooru's mother finds herself continuing to hum as her mahogany eyes cast over the silent neighborhood, dull blue houses lightening in shade the closer they get to the beach.

This had been where she had grown up and where she wished to raise her children as well.

She's still young, childhood stupidity still runs through her blood, but adulthood has numbed those impulses she once felt. She'd give anything to make sure her the child she has left can mature into adulthood with as much innocence as can be mustered. 

She continues to look at her son, who only in sleep seems to look peaceful. Her chest begins to ache and she fears that if she continues to wallow in her self pity she'll cry. She's only as strong as she believes she is, and so with all the neutralness she can muster, she draws the curtains in and makes her way out the door, looking back at her brunette son before continuing down the hall to her own room.

No more crying is heard that night.


End file.
